


control

by peachsneakers



Series: preservation of the self [8]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: And the trash boi, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Panic Attacks, Past Suicide Attempt, Protect the sad noodle, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 17,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Deceit's part of the fam-ILY, but that doesn't mean everything's fine.And what about Remus?





	1. no i won't sleep tonight

**Author's Note:**

> ta da the sequel

Deceit sighs, staring up at the ceiling of his room. His newly redecorated room, for Patton decided that perhaps he would have an easier time returning to it when he balked the other night. It was stupid of him, he knew, but he can't deny the simple joy of the fairy lights festooning his walls or the glow-in-the-dark stars Roman added to the ceiling. Virgil helped him clean, knowing better than most of the others where things should go (although Logan organized his books), and now the room almost looks like- well, like it could belong to one of the Light Sides.

He frowns. Maybe that's the problem. Despite all of their- their conversations and their willingness to include him and even their apologies for how they treated him before, he knows the truth. He's still _Deceit_. He's not _good_. Not in the same way.

And suddenly he knows who he can talk to about it. He rises from the bed, whisper-quiet in his socked feet as he glides to the door. Nothing stirs in the hallway beyond. But the person he wants to speak to is almost certainly awake. 

Anxiety makes for one hell of an insomniac, after all.

Sure enough, all he has to do is lightly tap on Virgil's door and he can hear the other side's shuffling footsteps before he pulls the door open, blinking in the hallway light, big headphones slung loosely around his neck.

"Deceit?" He asks in tired confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"Can I talk to you?" Deceit murmurs. "It is... _not_ important at all. I _don't_ care about it." Virgil stares at him for a moment, deciphering the double speak, then nods, pulling the door open wider.

Virgil's room is different from when he was a Dark Side, too, and it's something Deceit quietly appreciates as he makes his way to a seat, a very squashy purple beanbag chair. Virgil sits cross-legged on the bed, setting his laptop aside and putting his headphones away.

"So uh, what's up?" Virgil asks, when the silence stretches on.

"Do you-" Deceit fumbles for the words. He didn't want to _offend_ Virgil, after all. "Is it hard? Being one of them? Do you feel like, like you _aren't_ a Light Side, like you _can't_ be a Light Side, because of what your role is supposed to be?"

To his relief, Virgil doesn't get mad or cry or shout at him, just closes his eyes in silent contemplation, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment.

"Yes," Virgil decides. "I feel kinda like I'm in the middle. I told Patton before, I _can't_ just be this- this sweet little angel-"

"Heaven forbid," Deceit murmurs dryly, and Virgil smirks.

"I can't be that, or I can't do my job correctly," Virgil says. "I guess it makes sense that it would be like that for you, too?"

"Yeah," Deceit says quietly. "It just...feels wrong."

"It's not," Virgil assures him. "Whatever you feel, it's not _wrong_ to feel that way. It uh, it took me a really long time to feel comfortable with everyone else. Sometimes I still don't." He shrugs. "But that's okay. And I know that Patton and Logan and Roman are always there, when I come back."

"And Remus," Deceit says. Virgil hesitates.

"And Remus," he says. "But he's not- not quite the same. Do you think he wants to be?" Deceit thinks back to the naked yearning he glimpsed in Remus's eyes, when Roman snapped at him to either _properly_ help or do something else during Deceit's room makeover.

"Yes," Deceit says. "I... _definitely_ know how to help him."

"Yeah, I don't know, either," Virgil sighs. "Hey uh, since you're here, you wanna just sleep here? I don't mind."

"That wouldn't be ideal at _all_ ," Deceit says. "Thank you." 

Virgil's room has a rollaway bed (apparently it's more commonplace than Deceit knew for someone else to spend the night with Virgil). It's comfy enough, nearly as much as his own bed, but time still stretches into an eternity before sleep comes to claim him.


	2. the trash man redux

Virgil wakes up to Remus peering into his face, eyes bright and glazed with some internal furor.

"What the fuck?!" Virgil squeaks, skidding back and nearly hitting the wall. Remus grins.

"It's a family reunion!" He says, and cackles. Only then does Virgil remember Deceit's late night visit and his own impulsive offer to let the side spend the night in his room. When he glances at the rollaway bed, he sees Deceit sitting up, clothes crumpled and a _very_ disgruntled look on his face.

"Remus, has Virgil _ever_ allowed you to come in here without permission?" He asks. Remus slowly deflates, climbing off Virgil's bed and shuffling to the middle of the room.

"No," he admits.

"Then what made you think it would be acceptable now?" Deceit questions. Remus reddens.

"You're here," he points out, chin jutting out. Virgil's fingers tighten on his blanket, anxiety swelling. It's not even that he doesn't want Remus _there_ , he just-

"It's okay," Virgil manages to stammer out. Deceit's mismatched eyes cut to him.

"Are you sure?" Deceit asks. Virgil nods shakily.

"You're on thin ice," Deceit hisses, making up the rollaway bed's sheets. Remus just spins in place, humming an aimless tune that Virgil desperately hopes he doesn't put words to.

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down," Remus giggles. "London Bridge crushed everyone, my fair lady."

"Those are not the lyrics, Remus," Deceit says, finger-combing his hair into some semblance of tidiness. Virgil just flips his hood up over his messy hair. It doesn't matter. He can already tell this isn't going to be a good day, not with the anxiety humming in his veins, licking across his bones.

"Hmm, I need my shoes," Deceit says, frowning down at his socks. They look like Patton gave them to him- black with tiny yellow snakes.

"I can help!" Remus shouts. He flicks his hand at Deceit, and suddenly, the other side's feet are encased in the guts of dead fish. The blank, glazed fish eyes staring at Virgil is too much for him and he bolts for his bathroom, dry heaving to the tune of Deceit hissing an impressive list of profanities at the Duke while he demands that Remus get rid of the fish. When Virgil comes back, wiping his mouth, Deceit's socks are back to normal and Remus is pouting.

"I just wanted to _help_ ," Remus says sulkily.

"I know," Deceit says. "I know you did." Virgil chews his bottom lip.

"Uh, maybe we should go to breakfast?" He offers.

Patton's the only person awake and he greets them with a beaming smile.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks. Virgil exchanges a single look with Deceit before answering.

"As good as I'm gonna get," Virgil says, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. "Hey uh, Pop Rocks, you need any help?"

"Oh!" Patton looks surprised, although Virgil offers his help more often than not. Patton just hardly ever takes him up on it. "Could you put the coffee on for Logan? He should be up soon."

"No problem," Virgil says, loping over to the coffeemaker. Remus is unnaturally silent, leaning against the wall and staring at his hands.

"You okay?" Virgil asks him. He startles and looks up for a moment. Virgil nearly flinches at the sorrow reflected back at him, before manic cheer shutters back over them.

"Fine!" Remus chirps. "Hey, do you think if you could drink an entire pot of coffee, your blood would be coffee?"

"No," Virgil says, a little shaken. "I don't think that's possible." 

"Why don't you help me set the table, Remus?" Patton suggests, obviously sensing the tension in the air, even if he can't pinpoint _why_. "You, too, Deceit."

"I need to find my shoes first," Deceit says, and stalks back down the hallway toward his room. Virgil winces.

"Hey, guess what?" Remus suddenly blurts out. "If we are what we eat, should I stop eating so much _ass_?"


	3. the bottom of the dumpster

He's not stupid. He knows how the others feel about him. How even Deceit merely _tolerates_ him (although he does get on the side's every last nerve, so perhaps that's why). He scares Virgil. Patton- well, Patton's gotten a little better, and he can tell that the moral side is _trying_ , but it still feels stiff and unnatural, like the wing of a dead dove. Logan's the same as always, which is reassuring in a weird way. Logan's never been disgusted by him. Logan's never been much of anything.

But Roman...

He can't even look at his brother now, who's slumped over the other side of the table, sleepily forking scrambled eggs into his mouth. Roman must _despise_ him. How could he not? Remus is the _bad_ creativity. Remus is the funhouse mirror, everything that Roman _hates_ that he could be. And yet he can't _stop_.

"What if humans could fly?" He asked the room at large. "And birds operated planes and there was a jet turbine-"

"Not at breakfast, Remus," Deceit groans. "Please? Later, you can reminisce all you like."

"Oh," Remus says, looking down at his plate. He has piled it with bacon, as something he is willing to try. It repulses him for a moment. But he should probably eat _some_ real food, Virgil and Deceit have been gently harping on him for years. 

The bacon tastes good. He smiles around his mouthful.

"Yum!" He declares, still chewing. Patton beams at him.

"You like it?" He asks. Remus nods enthusiastically.

"Not as much as deodorant, of course," he says, ignoring Roman's faux gagging across the table. "But it's good!" It's better than deodorant, in fact, which is really only a steady stream of marshmallow fondant he molds to look like deodorant. If his brother doesn't want to investigate further, that's his problem.

"I'll be sure to make that for you then, kiddo," Patton says automatically, then pauses. "Er- is it all right to call you that?"

Remus's face warms. His brother's eyes have gone all squinty, and he isn't sure what that means. Is it bad to say yes?

"Yes," he says anyway, because even if he doesn't feel like a 'kiddo' in the slightest, it's _Patton_ , and that means Patton _accepts_ him, even if only a little. He wouldn't call him that, otherwise, he knows that much.

"I want to talk to you after breakfast, Remus," Roman says. Remus bristles because that isn't a request, it's an _order_ , but after a moment, he sighs and returns to his bacon. It's not worth calling out.

After he can't dawdle anymore over his bacon, Roman pulls him into his room. As usual, Remus can't help but scrunch his nose. It's so _clean_ and _pretty_ and absolutely _nothing_ like his room.

"What are you doing?" Roman demands.

"What's it look like?" Remus asks. Roman frowns.

"You- you want to be like Deceit?" He asks. Remus looks down at the frothy material of his sleeves, unwilling to nod. "Just- be on your best behavior for Patton, would you? He- he doesn't deal well with, well..." Roman pauses.

"With me," Remus finishes bitterly.

"That's not what I meant," Roman tries to say, but Remus knows better. Anger seethes and tangles his thoughts, until all he wants to do is _destroy_ , wreck _havoc_ , do something, _anything_ -

"Don't worry, _brother_ , I won't _corrupt_ him if that's what you're worried about," he sneers, flinging the door open. "I have _some_ semblance of my own morality. You'd think my own _brother_ would support me, but why would you? I'm just a _Dark Side_ , after all."

And with that, he stalks out the door, not even noticing Patton's pale, shocked face at the end of the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it looks bad but i swear i don't hate roman lmao, he's still a good bean, he just has issues™ with his bro


	4. where truth comes to hang out

"What. Did. You. _Say_?" Roman's abruptly yanked out of his own self-loathing by a white-faced Patton, who all but _stalks_ into his room, arms folded across his chest.

"What- what do you mean?" Roman offers weakly.

"I'm not stupid, Roman," Patton says. "I saw Remus come out of here in _tears_. And I heard what he said. Do you really think he's going to corrupt me? That he _can_? I'm not a child, Roman. And Remus deserves better than that. Than what we've all done. Haven't- haven't we learned from Deceit?"

"Remus isn't _like_ Deceit," Roman says, but he knows that argument's pathetic. The look in Patton's eyes only reinforces it. "He's literally the embodiment of intrusive thoughts, Patton, he's _never_ going to be like the rest of us. And that's- that's _fine_ , but it feels like you want him to be something he's not. Something he can't be."

"And why can't he be that?" Patton challenges. "So what if he's not like the rest of us? We're all different from each other. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, but we all come together for Thomas. And Remus can, too."

"How?" Roman spits out. "Telling Thomas to jump out of a moving car? That's not helpful, Patton. That's the _opposite_ of helpful."

"He's not _just_ intrusive thoughts," Patton says. "He's creativity, too. Thomas can _use_ some of his creativity if he- if he wants to."

"What's wrong with me?" Roman says, stung. Patton sighs and shakes his head.

"Absolutely nothing is wrong with you and your ideas," Patton says. "But Remus was right in his song, when he said he was the spectrum A to Z. If Thomas wants to use creativity that you don't have, that's what Remus _does_ have. You complement each other in that regard. Don't you think?"

"Well, that's a little rich, coming from you, isn't it?" Roman blurts out, unable to stop himself. His mind yells at him to stop, don't keep going, he's only going to hurt Patton, but he can't stop, the words spill out, one traitorous syllable at a time. " _Morality_ is the reason we split into two people to begin with!"

Patton gasps, his eyes filling up with tears.

"Patton, I'm sorry," Roman says. "I didn't mean it- I shouldn't have said it-"

"You're right," Patton says quietly, his shoulders slumping. "It _is_ my fault that you and your brother are no longer one person. I'm sorry, Roman. I know that doesn't make up for it at all, but. I _am_ sorry."

"No, you-" Roman's hands clench into useless fists. "I shouldn't have just shouted it like that, Pat. It was wrong of me."

"You're entitled to your feelings, Roman," Patton says. "I should have thought about that, and I didn't. I just- I'm very worried about your brother. He deserves a chance. From me, if nobody else."

"If Deceit deserved a second chance, then so does my brother," Roman says reluctantly. "You're right. I shouldn't have said what I did, I just- I've grown up with him. I know what he's like."

"You know shockingly little for someone who's supposed to be related," a new voice says, and Deceit rises up from the floor, his expression grim and one set of his arms crossed across his body. "Remus is currently in my room, being comforted by Virgil. We _Dark Sides_ -" and his voice holds a wealth of bitterness that hits Roman like a punch to the stomach- "take care of our own."

"I shouldn't have said that," Roman says at once. "I- I was wrong."

"Well, you'll have to convince Remus of that, won't you," Deceit says, mismatched eyes flat. "You know what Remus wants, Roman? Perhaps not more than anything, but enough that he's spent more than one evening weeping in my lap?"

"What?" Roman asks, dreading the answer.

"For his brother to be proud of him," Deceit says bleakly. "He's given me permission to say all of this, by the way. He thinks maybe if it comes from _me_ , you'll listen. Of course... as they say... once a liar, always a liar. So perhaps not. And you should _know_ that anything that leaks through to Thomas, he's experiencing at least twice as badly. Do you think he _wants_ to be intrusive thoughts? To _have_ intrusive thoughts? You hear them secondhand- how do you think it feels to have a steady stream of them, never-ending?"

"I-" Roman says weakly. Shame throbs like a living thing, tightening his throat. "What have I done?"

"Something that's still fixable," Patton speaks up. "Come on. Your room, did you say?"

"Yes," Deceit says. But as Roman steps outside, he nearly runs smack into a panting, wide-eyed Virgil.

"Deceit!" Virgil gasps, hands on knees. "I tried to stop him, but you know how hard it is to stop Remus when he's determined-"

"Where is he?" Deceit asks, cutting straight to the chase.

"The imagination," Virgil says. " _His_ side of the imagination."

Roman blanches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sorry i ended there :)


	5. to the duchy of imagination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter is inspired by/comes from [A_Nonimouse!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Nonimouse/pseuds/A_Nonimouse)

As Patton runs to grab Logan, Virgil's breathing speeds up. No one else but Deceit and perhaps Roman has been in Remus's side of the imagination, but Virgil has, and if he were an ordinary human out in the real world- despite Deceit rescuing him- he would have _died_. As it was, he still had pale scars across his chest and side from some nightmarish creature that was nothing but claw and fang.

And that was when Remus was in a relatively _good_ mood. _Now_ , Virgil can't even imagine the horrors that lie in store. Remus embodies _all_ the imagination can conjure up, and that's a _lot_.

"Should Thomas come with us?" Logan asks, as he arrives. Virgil is slightly annoyed that he doesn't even look mussed.

"No," Deceit answers. "Not yet. Once we get Remus out of the imagination, then his presence will be beneficial. But if we were to lose Thomas to the imagination..." Virgil pales, his knees nearly buckling underneath him. Roman notices and hauls him back up.

"Thanks," Virgil mumbles, his cheeks aflame.

The entry to Remus's side of the imagination is, appropriately enough, in Remus's room. Virgil tries to see it through the others' eyes as they enter. It's nothing like Roman's bedroom, that's for sure. Gloom enshrouds it, there's something green and vaguely bio luminescent on the walls, and there's trash everywhere, enough that they have to kick it away. For all that, Virgil bristles at the slightest hint of disdain. But none is forthcoming and he uneasily subsides as Deceit makes his way to the front of the group, his face somber.

"Here," Deceit says, snapping his gloved fingers. Rope appears, looped around each person's waist. "It _should_ stay rope, since I am the one who created it, but I can't be sure. After all, we are entering _his_ realm. Don't touch anything, don't wander away from the group, don't investigate. Virgil and I can find him." Virgil finds himself coaxed up to the front, Deceit's stretched arm tugging at the rope around his waist. "The rest of you have never been in here. It's bad when he's feeling himself. I don't know what we'll find on the other side of the door, but whatever you do, be on guard."

"Is that- is that really necessary?" Patton asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes," Deceit says bluntly. "Think about it, Patton. You said it yourself, didn't you? The spectrum A to Z. That's a _lot_. His song was quite mild, for him. He could have made it much, much worse."

"I thought so," Logan says. He looks quietly resolved, his glasses firmly pushed up on his nose. He wore long sleeves today and he's pushed them up, cuffing them roundabouts his elbows.

"Let's go then," Virgil says, hunched in resignation. Deceit cautiously opens the door, the knob a dull brass that nevertheless shines with its own inner luminescence. 

At first, it looks normal. Virgil blinks in surprise at the tranquil meadow that greets them as they file in. Deer graze across the meadow, near the shadows of the trees, and he can hear the trickle of water somewhere.

"Well, this doesn't look so bad-" Patton starts to say, when one of the deer looks up. Virgil swallows, every drop of saliva in his mouth instantly evaporating. Oh _no_.

The deer has bright, bulbous, red eyes and fangs that protrude to either side of its mouth. It makes a low growling sound and the other deer look up. Virgil's heart speeds up when he sees they all have the same nightmarish eyes and teeth, dripping with god knows what.

"Oh dear," Deceit says. Virgil barely notices the pun. "Grab the rope between you, pick up the slack-" Virgil does so hastily, the rope burning across his palms. "On my signal, we're going to _run_ , all right? Down that little path to the side." He points to a barely visible track in the grass. Virgil tenses, anxiety humming like a live wire in his chest.

" _Go!_ "

Virgil sprints, pulling the others behind him and wincing when he hears Patton nearly fall, picked up and carried between Roman and Logan. The deer charge at them, but in a half-hearted, haphazard way, like they aren't really trying. Virgil starts to wonder why, but then they're running and running and-

He nearly falls over himself, as Deceit jerks to a stop.

"What is it?" Virgil snaps. Deceit only points.

Far from the peaceful-seeming meadow, this landscape is a dark, turbulent nightmare, seething with thorns, tentacles, and poisonous-looking fog. And other things Virgil doesn't want to linger on for too long.

"This is horrifying, just so you know," Roman says.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't look like this if you hadn't been an ass," Virgil says. Roman winces and Virgil sighs in regret, guilt pricking at him. "I'm sorry, Roman. I shouldn't have said that, I'm just on edge."

"You're right," Roman says, his head bowed.

"To be scrupulously fair, Remus's domain frequently looks like the love child of Cthulhu and the Great Old Ones and the _Saw_ franchise," Deceit says, sounding impatient. "Now come on. If I had to guess, I would say he's...there." He points at a distant castle, perched on a crooked, crumbling tower. In stark contrast to Roman's domain, this castle is warped and blackened, falling apart at the seams.

"He would be," Virgil grumbles. "Can we go then? I uh...don't want to meet anything he considers _worse_ than the deer."

"Virgil has a point," Logan says. "Deceit, what do you suggest we do if we meet another creature that we can't run from?" Deceit smiles. His teeth look very sharp in the dim light.

"Why, fight, of course," he says.


	6. a lovecraftian weirdmageddon

"How?" Patton asks. His eyes look very wide and frightened behind his glasses and Deceit feels a prickle of guilt at saying it so dramatically. But he's not _wrong_ in his assessment, and if he shows any sign of weakness or incompetence, he has a feeling the others will crumble like a bad hand in poker. It doesn't feel good, having _that_ resting on his shoulders (and isn't that an understatement).

"Whatever you can grab," Deceit says. "Sticks, rocks, your bare fists. I suggest you _don't_ try to conjure anything, Roman. While it might work, anything that brings Remus's attention to us- and particularly _you_ \- prematurely sounds like a phenomenally bad idea."

Roman swallows, his face pale in the dim light, but he nods resolutely anyway, hand hovering near his omnipresent sword. Right now, Deceit blesses that sword. It's the only true _weapon_ any of them have. Unless he wants to go around biting monsters, that is, and he would rather the others not see the effects his venom can have.

"Onward," Deceit says, and trudges forward. The chuckle of water is everywhere now, but Deceit knows the chances of it actually _being_ water are slim. 

Sure enough, around the next bend, they stumble across a waterfall. Of steaming, dark red blood. That somehow flows _upward_ , into the grey clouds that bristle with stubby tentacles of fog. Patton stares at it, open-mouthed in fascination, while Logan frowns, thoughtful.

"Anything goes," Deceit reminds them. Next to the bank, an enormous animal that looks like it has six legs, not four, plummets to the ground, exploding on the river bank like a water balloon. To Patton's cry of horror, Deceit carefully steps closer, examining the remains. He frowns. They're mostly blood and fragments of bone, not an internal organ in sight. That's not good. When Remus is feeling well, he takes just as much pride in his creations as his brother does. For him to be this sloppy...

"Shit," Virgil sums up, standing next to him. He scrubs his hair back, looking around uneasily. "Deceit, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean... Maybe it would be better to let him cool off?"

"No," Deceit says, with a certainty he does not understand. "For one, I doubt that Remus would let us leave so easily. For two, if we left- we would be abandoning him, Virgil. What would that do to him?"

"I don't want to know," Virgil mutters. "You're right. I'm just-"

"Anxious," Deceit fills in. Virgil nods. "It will be all right," he says, trying to ignore the bitter tang of the lie coating his tongue. Virgil looks at him doubtfully, but backs away anyway, toward the others.

A rumble fills the air, shaking the ground. Virgil stumbles, and Deceit snakes out an arm to catch him, holding him steady until the tremor passes.

"What was _that_?" Roman asks.

"If I had to guess, based on previous jaunts through Remus's realm, that was a were-bear and we need to run," Deceit says pleasantly, trying to ignore the fact his heartbeat has turned into a hummingbird.

"A _what_?" Patton asks, but Virgil's already grabbing the rope and tugging them forward, a sheen of sweat starting on his forehead. _Shit_. A were-bear's what attacked Virgil before, isn't it?

"Run," Deceit says. "We have to make it to the castle before-"

The ground trembles again, behind them, and against his better judgment, Deceit turns to look.

Up the path, by the meadow with the deer, a monstrous creature stands. It looks like nothing more than scraps of fur, claws, and teeth, tiny, piggy eyes glittering out at them. The red smeared across its mouth speaks of the final destination of at least _one_ of the deer. _Oh no._

"Roman, I hate to ask it of you, but rear guard?" Deceit hisses. Roman nods, his face set in solemn lines.

"I don't like this, I don't like this, I don't like this," Patton babbles, his voice getting higher and higher pitched.

"It doesn't matter whether we stand still or run, so let's get the fuck out of here," Virgil nearly shrieks, his panic at a fever pitch, infecting everyone.

Deceit _runs_ , his long legs easily eating the ground beneath them. Virgil's nearly surpassed him- fight or flight instinct personified- and he can hear that Patton and Logan are right behind (Logan helping Patton stay upright). Roman brings up the rear, surprisingly focused. The were-bear howls something incomprehensible and takes off after them.

 _Fuck_ , Deceit thinks. When Virgil was attacked before, it was mostly an accident. Remus had been quite apologetic afterward. 

But this time? With Roman in their party, he's not so sure. Perhaps it was a mistake to bring Remus's brother, but since he is the source of the conflict to begin with, it only made sense. Or so Deceit thought...

He looks up, panting. The castle looms closer than he thought. Either that, or Remus has moved it out of impatience. That wouldn't surprise him.

The were-bear roars again, frighteningly close, and Deceit puts on a burst of speed. Virgil grabs his hand roughly. When he manages a look at the anxious side, he sees tears streaming down Virgil's face.

The castle gates are just as crumbling and broken as the rest of it, but Deceit tenses, ready to shove them open and pull everyone else inside, hopeful that Remus's presumed proximity will be enough to give the were-bear pause.

He stretches a gloved hand out- fingers nearly brushing the rusted metal-

Until the scream of pain and roar of satisfaction behind him tells him that he's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun


	7. long live the king (or something like that)

The harsh tug of the rope around Patton's waist nearly jerks him off his feet and his high-pitched scream mingles with Roman's shriek of pain. He whirls around as fast as he can, to see Roman, sword in hand, brace himself for another onslaught. His white shirtsleeve is sodden red, and Patton feels faint when he realizes what that means.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," he babbles.

"We need to help him," Logan shouts and Patton hears panic in _his_ voice, too, and that makes it all _worse_ because if _Logan_ is panicking-

" _Leave him alone!_ " Virgil shrieks, his voice trebling on itself. It hurts Patton's ears and he involuntarily claps his hands over his ears. He's not the only one. The were-bear sways in place, stunned for a moment. Then it snarls, reorienting on the trembling anxious side. Patton's emotions flare and he stoops down, picking up the first jagged rock he sees.

"Patton, don't-" Logan begins, but it's too late. Patton hurls the rock at the were-bear, hitting it square between the eyes.

"Don't you go _near_ him," Patton says hotly. His blood feels like it's boiling under the skin. "Don't you go near _anyone_ -"

"Patton, please," Roman says over his shoulder. He sounds weak and Patton's heart clenches. "Take the others, get in the castle-" He turns and slashes the rope in two with his sword, leaving the ends to wilt to the blood-spattered ground.

" _No_ ," Patton says, but Logan's yanking him backward and he can hear Deceit's low litany of apologies as Roman recedes at a terrifying rate. The were-bear roars again in defiant triumph and lumbers toward Roman, who's begun to back up, too, but is nowhere near enough, not when he's cut the rope.

"Roman!" Patton wails, reaching toward the creative side, although he knows it's futile. And then time... _stops_.

" _DON'T YOU DARE HURT MY BROTHER-_ " It's Remus's voice, but a distorted, howling version, driving Patton and the others to their knees. Remus appears out of nowhere, morningstar held over both shoulders as he brings it down with all his might on the were-bear's skull, crushing it like so much refuse. Blood, bones, and bits of brain matter squirt out and Patton has no shame about turning away and throwing up in a black, thorny shrub.

"Remus?" Roman asks in disbelief, swaying where he stands. "What are you- Why did you-"

"Roman," Remus says, his eyes scanning over his brother. "Oh, _no_ -" He breaks off, his voice tiny and choked and hurt. It brings a lump to Patton's throat as he struggles upright, assisted by Logan and Virgil.

"Remus," Deceit says quietly. Remus startles, turning around.

"Oh, you're here," Remus says. His eyes widen. "You're _all_ here."

"For you," Deceit says. "But Remus, I think we should get out of the imagination. Is that all right?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Remus says. He snaps his fingers and Patton sprawls to the ground in front of the door to Remus's bedroom. To his relief, the fanged, red-eyed deer are nowhere in sight.

They stagger through one at a time, Remus bringing up the rear, holding Roman princess-style. Roman is far too pallid for Patton's liking, his eyelashes casting bruise-like shadows on his cheeks.

"Here, Remus," Deceit says, and sweeps off a heap of clothes, clearing a place on Remus's bed and laying down an enormous towel at the same time. "Put him here. I can fix him."

"Do you promise?" Remus asks, and he sounds so defeated and childish, Patton's heart gives a painful twinge.

"I promise," Deceit says. "No lies, Remus."

"No lies," Remus repeats, and collapses to the floor where he stands. Patton rushes over in alarm but to his (mild) relief, Remus has just decided that this is a good place to sit while Deceit works his magic.

"Virgil, can you help, please?" Deceit asks. Virgil inches over, obviously uneasy, and Patton can hear them start a low-voiced conversation that's just a tad too quiet to be effectively overheard. Which is probably the point.

"I didn't want him to get hurt," Remus says suddenly. His eyes are red-rimmed, and Patton can see tears slowly trace their way down his cheeks, smearing his eye makeup. "He's my _brother_. I'm not- I didn't-" He stops. "What if he dies?" He asks, and his voice sounds like he's been stuffed in a pressure cooker. "What if he bleeds and bleeds and everything gets infected and oozes pus and-"

"It won't," Patton gently interrupts. Remus looks up at him, eyes huge. "Deceit and Virgil will make sure it won't."

"I just wanna tell him that I'm sorry," Remus whispers. "Why'd he have to be the one to fight it?"

"Because that's the kind of person he is," Logan tells him. Remus sticks his tongue out for a second, then frowns, looking down at the blood staining his clothes.

"Roman, if you die, I'm killing you," Remus shouts.

Patton elects not to tell him that that makes no sense. 


	8. blood brothers

Everything _hurts_. Roman groans, and it is instantly soothed by Deceit's sibilant murmurs and the application of a cold compress to his forehead. _What happened?_ The were-bear- He doesn't know what sixth sense made him turn, but he's glad he did, so he could face the creature head-on. It attacked with a vicious swipe of one massive paw across his shoulder and part of his chest, and Roman's not ashamed to admit he screamed as the claws shredded his skin.. He doesn't really remember what happened after that. He remembers Virgil's Anxiety voice and _Patton_ fighting back and cutting the rope-

And his brother. He remembers Remus, eyes crazed as he wielded his favorite weapon, crunching the were-bear's skull like a pile of moldering autumn leaves. He remembers the desperation in Remus's voice, remembers being carried in his brother's arms, so gently he can scarce credit it to _Remus_ -

"Roman, if you die, I'm killing you!" Remus's voice intrudes and Roman flails his way back to reality, the here and now a cold, painful intrusion. He winces and Virgil flinches back, his face pale with shock.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbles, and Roman realizes with queasy fascination that Virgil's hands look like they've been dip-dyed red.

"We're nearly done sewing you up," Deceit reassures him. Roman doesn't even care if it's a lie or not, he appreciates it all the same. _Now_ he can feel the sutures going in, one by one, and they hurt like hell. Not as much as the were-bear's initial attack, of course, but not even the dragon witch can match _that_. He wonders if the were-bear is Remus's attempt at creating his own dragon witch. If it is, Roman will gladly conjure up another witch and set it loose in Remus's kingdom.

"Roman?" Remus peers down at him. "Are you-" He hesitates. His eye makeup is smudged and streaky, testament to his tears.

"I'm all right," Roman reassures him. "I'll be up in no time!" He continues, choosing to ignore the hesitation on Virgil's face. Deceit has no such compunction.

"You will not," Deceit says severely. "Bed rest for you until I say otherwise. It's what I did for Virgil." The s's in his speech are much more pronounced than usual. Virgil shrugs, biting at his bottom lip.

"Yeah, sorry, Princey," Virgil mumbles. He looks like he desperately wants to shove his hands in his pockets, but he can't when they're covered in Roman's blood.

"It's all my fault," Remus whispers. He conjures a brick and smashes himself in the head with it before Deceit can pull it away. Roman winces when he sees blood start to trickle down the side of Remus's face, but Remus acts like he doesn't feel anything. "I'm so _stupid_ \- and _bad_ \- I _am_ a Dark Side, I'm _evil_ -"

"You are not!" Roman bursts out, before Patton can. "You're my brother. You aren't bad, evil, _or_ stupid. And I was wrong to label you a Dark Side. _Any_ of you." His look encompasses Deceit and Virgil as well. Virgil hunches his shoulders. Deceit just looks surprised. Surprised and faintly happy. Roman takes a deep breath, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain. "You're just different, that's all. You still help Thomas, and that's what we're all here for. To help Thomas in our own ways.

"And it's not your fault," he continues. "I willingly went into _your_ part of the imagination, knowing what it would be like. Deceit warned us all what it might come down to, and I don't regret trying to find you so I could apologize in there."

"I-" Remus stops, his eyes very wide and very wet. He delicately leans over Roman, burying his icy nose in the crook of Roman's neck that isn't bloody. This close, he smells a little bit like garbage and a little bit like sugar and a lot like-

Well, like his brother. 

"I hate to break up this _touching_ moment," Deceit drawls. "But you're getting blood in Roman's wounds, Remus, could you move, please?"

"We're _blood brothers!_ " Remus squeals in excitement, but he moves aside anyway, fussing with his sleeves. Roman can't help but laugh.

"Remus, we were already brothers," he points out.

"Yeah, yeah," Remus says, flapping a hand at him. "My blood's in _yours_ now. Isn't that _exciting_?"

Roman's not sure he can make himself feel the same way, but the smile beaming from his brother's face certainly makes it a little easier to _try_.


	9. what you don't know

Deceit frowns in contemplation. Roman has been moved out to the living room and settled in his own sick bed, next to the couch. Remus refuses to leave his side, so Patton had to conjure up another bed. Remus keeps jarring Roman's wounds by accident, but to Deceit's surprise, Roman hasn't shouted at him or told him to go away once. Part of that might be the pain medication (injuries still _hurt_ in the mindscape, after all, even if they didn't behave _exactly_ like real world wounds), but the rest is all Roman, and Deceit couldn't be more shocked. 

Shocked and pleased, to think his words and their jaunt into Remus's part of the imagination has actually had an effect on the stubborn side. He didn't lie when he said Remus wanted his brother to be proud of him. Deceit remembers too many nights when neither of them could fall asleep alone and Remus ended up sobbing himself to sleep, choking on half-formed impulses and bubbling intrusive thoughts. It was worse after Virgil left. 

But this- Thomas needs to see this. Thomas needs to know that this is possible, that his sides are struggling to accept each other, but they're on their way, and that it will be okay. Everything will be okay. For once, Deceit doesn't think that's a lie.

"Logan," he murmurs, capturing the logical side's attention. Logan looks up from his book, expression mildly curious. "Could I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment? It's... _not_ important."

"Of course," Logan says, setting his book aside.

"Thomas," Deceit states, and is pleased to see comprehension settle on Logan's face.

"We have neglected him," Logan murmurs, distress glistening in his eyes. "Our well-being is important, but it is also important to ensure _Thomas's_ well-being."

"Precisely," Deceit says. "I thought perhaps you and I could go and bring him here. It would be _terrible_ if he saw Roman and Remus beginning to get along."

"Agreed," Logan says. "I'll inform Patton." 

Patton himself pops back into the kitchen right after Logan does, eyes wide and anxious behind his glasses. He fusses over Deceit, who exchanges a baffled look with Logan.

"Virgil says Thomas is pretty anxious today," Patton says. _Ah._ That explains it then.

"Shall we?" He asks, offering an arm to Logan. He sinks out and emerges in Thomas's bedroom. All the curtains are drawn and the man himself is still in his robe, curled up in the middle of the bed.

"Thomas!" Logan exclaims. Deceit willingly lets him take the lead, dropping back a pace as Logan makes his way to Thomas's side. "What is wrong?"

"I don't know," Thomas mutters. When he looks up, Deceit has to conceal a wince. The man looks utterly exhausted, the skin below his eyes so shadowed he might as well be trying out Virgil's eye makeup. "It's better now, but earlier was-" He catches sight of Deceit and his eyes widen. "Deceit! What are you doing-"

"He's here to help," Logan interrupts. Thomas's forehead scrunches in confusion.

"But- He-" He flounders.

"As Patton, I believe, told you before, my aim is _self preservation,_ Thomas," Deceit drawls. "You don't look very well preserved at the moment."

"What happened?" Thomas asks. "I know _something_ happened."

"Roman upset Remus, and we went to Remus's side of the imagination in order to fix it," Logan states simply. "It was important and necessary. Now that everyone is back in the commons, a visit from you would be helpful."

"Why couldn't I come to fix it?" Thomas asks. Deceit just _looks_ at him, one eyebrow raised, and Thomas flushes. "Right," he says. "So I just- Come with you?"

"Yes," Logan says.

"If you're up for it," Deceit adds because he's not sure a sleep-deprived Thomas _can_ make the trip into his own mind palace, not unscathed.

"I'm fine," Thomas says belligerently. The taste of a lie burns Deceit's throat, as Thomas lurches up from the bed and into his closet, yanking on something more fitting than a robe.

"If you're ready, Thomas," Logan says. Thomas nods, swaying a little. Alarm suddenly blares through Deceit and he reaches out to grab Thomas, just as all three of them stumble, sinking down into the mindscape.

"Where am I?" Thomas asks in bleary confusion.

When Deceit looks up, his heart sinks to the bottom of his shoes.

They aren't in the living room. Or anywhere close. They aren't even in the Light Sides' space anymore.

The dark that used to be Deceit's constant companion stretches out in every direction, swallowing every sound they make.


	10. it's a long way down

"Where are we?" Logan asks. He feels the first trickles of panic and something else slither down his spine. Thomas doesn't look like he's faring much better, his eyes look like two burnt holes in his face, and he's trembling like a leaf caught in hurricane force winds. Deceit-

Logan's eyes widen in alarm. Deceit's face is so pale, it looks like it's been carved of wax, and the side is deathly still. But his eyes-

The look in his eyes is of someone being tortured.

"Deceit!" Logan shouts. The other side jumps, nearly falling over, but he turns to face Logan anyway, and that's enough for him. "Where are we? Do you know?"

"It shouldn't be possible," Deceit says bleakly. "It's not- How-"

Thomas sags abruptly to the ground, staring at his hands in his lap. His shoulders hunch inward and when Logan leans down to peer into his face, he can see that Thomas's cheeks are streaked with tears.

"Apparently it is possible," Logan says, his voice as firm and steady as he can manage. Emotions boil at the back of his mind, but he's able to shove them away for now. "What is it?"

For answer, Deceit holds out his still bandaged arms, obviously unable to clarify further. Logan's eyes widen.

"Depression," he breathes. Deceit nods miserably. "It is not a Side, but it _is_ a state of mind. Of _course_ Thomas could end up here." He looks around. "But how?"

"His mental state must have still been poor," Deceit mutters. "I _knew_ something felt off- But I was too late." His shoulders slump. He looks very tired all of a sudden, his eyes sunken in.

"That isn't your fault," Logan says. "I, too, noticed that Thomas didn't seem capable of traveling to the mindscape in his current state, but I overlooked it. I should not have."

"I'm sorry," Thomas mumbles from the ground, tear-choked. "I've done this to you, it's my fault..."

"It's no one's fault," Logan states. "It is an accident." The darkness around them seems to thicken, and Logan swallows, a bead of sweat trickling down the nape of his neck. If depression can be an active state of mind, and a real _place_ in the mindscape, who's to say what horrors it holds? (Although surely it can't be any worse than Remus's kingdom?)

"Deceit," he addresses the other side again. "How do we get out of here?"

"I have no idea," Deceit admits. Logan can tell that it's not a lie. For one, the other side is shaking too badly. He can barely get the sentence out. "Think happy thoughts?"

But as Logan looks around, he knows the chance of _that_ working is slim. Perhaps he can conjure up his own happy memories of Disney marathons with the others and sharing a cup of tea with Patton as he putters around in the kitchen and makes cookies and lending Virgil a new book, but Thomas is still a sobbing mess and Deceit isn't much better.

On the other hand, would it really hurt?

"Deceit," Logan goes for him first. "What makes you happy?" Deceit's mismatched eyes meet his incredulously.

"What kind of question is that?" He hisses. Logan automatically adjusts his tie.

"You said think happy thoughts," he reminds Deceit. "It is as good an answer as any. What makes you happy?"

"I don't know," Deceit says, but the downward turn of his eyes betrays him. Finally, he answers in a tiny voice, "Acceptance."

"It feels good to be accepted," Logan says, nodding. "I have not had the same struggle that you have had, but I have been ignored and disregarded in the past. It is better now, and I hope that it stays that way. I enjoy your company at mealtimes and I admire your mind. I think that we could have very intriguing debates, if you were ever up to that."

Deceit looks at him in surprise before weakly nodding himself.

"I like staying with you," he mutters. "All of you. It's so _warm_ with the Light Sides. I've never been so warm in my life." A very faint smile traces his lips. "I'm a little cold-blooded, if you couldn't tell."

"I wondered," Logan admits. 

"I've missed Virgil," Deceit continues. "It's- it's _nice_ to see him again, to feel like perhaps we can be friends again, after all."

"Good," Logan says. From the corner of his eye, he can see the mindscape around them lightening- just a shade or two, but enough for Logan to hypothesize that "think happy thoughts" could indeed be part of the solution to leaving.

"Thomas," he says, kneeling by Thomas's side. Thomas looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes, so swollen that Logan has to hide a wince.

"I can't," Thomas says dully. "I can't think of anything happy. There's nothing happy there."

"Falsehood," Logan says. "There is Joan. Talyn. All of your friends, who cheer you on and love you and are always there for you when you need them. You have us-" He indicates Deceit, too. "-who also do our best to support you. I know that right now, it feels hopeless. _You_ feel hopeless. But there is always hope. What makes you happy?"

"What makes _you_ happy?" Thomas shoots back.

"Crofter's," Logan says at once. "Being listened to. Being accepted. The others, including Deceit and Remus." He can sense Deceit's surprise, but he doesn't stop. "Books. Learning. Coffee. Tea with Patton. Disney marathons. Watching documentaries. Baking. It has been difficult for me to process what happiness actually _means_ , but I do experience it, and I _enjoy_ that I do."

"Oh," Thomas says weakly, staring at the desolate ground. "The fans make me happy. They give so much love and support. My friends. You're right. Disney." He starts to stand up. Logan and Deceit help him to his feet.

"I shouldn't be here," Thomas says, looking around at the steadily lightening landscape. "I don't _want_ to be here. And I don't need to be here."

"No, you don't-" A new voice says, and to Logan's surprise, the echo in it proves it's Virgil's. "Thomas, breathe. All of you. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. It's okay. We'll get you out of there."

Logan smiles in relief, willingly giving in to the breathing exercise and closing his eyes.

When he opens them again, he's sprawled on the living room floor, tangled up with Deceit and Thomas.

"Home sweet home," Deceit drawls, and Thomas bursts out laughing.


	11. a daring rescue

_Something's wrong._

Virgil frowns, looking around. Roman's still half-asleep, Remus curled up next to him. Patton's in the kitchen, baking brownies for the 'invalid.' Deceit and Logan haven't returned yet with Thomas, but Virgil doesn't know what Thomas was doing. Maybe he's got to settle things in the real world. 

_Or maybe it's because_ something's wrong _._

His breathing quickens as he hunches into a tight ball, rocking back and forth in an unconscious effort to quell the fear flooding him out of nowhere. He can barely hear the outside world, but Remus's strangled cry of distress still registers in buzzing ears and he looks up. 

"Bad, bad, _bad_!" Remus repeats, nearly shrieking the last word and jolting Roman out of his doze.

"Remus, what is it?" He asks in alarm, reaching for his brother, but Remus is already crawling away, landing in front of Virgil with a soft thump. He seizes Virgil's shoulders in a death grip, jerking him closer to maddened eyes.

"You feel it, too, don't you?" He whispers. The streak of grey in his hair doubles for a second before Virgil's blurry, disbelieving eyes. Virgil manages to nod, his vision tunneling in on Remus's bloodshot eyes and scribbly mustache, close enough to see the smudges and streaks in his eye makeup.

"Something's wrong," Virgil manages to gasp out. "With Deceit and Logan and Thomas-"

"They're in a _bad place_ ," Remus spits out, and Virgil's blood freezes in his veins. "Bad, bad, _bad_."

"Remus, you don't mean-" Virgil croaks out, ignoring Patton's and Roman's exhortations to tell them what's wrong. Remus nods, so hard it looks like it should snap his neck.

"Virgey Virge, it's _only_ a state of mind!" Remus sings, but Virgil can see the strain in his expression. 

"It shouldn't be _possible_ ," Virgil says, trying to calm down for both of them. Not that being the embodiment of Anxiety is helping him any. 

"WHAT SHOULDN'T BE POSSIBLE?" Roman finally bellows loudly enough for Virgil to hear. He startles, nearly falling over, only held up by Remus's grasping hand.

"I don't know how or why," Virgil says bleakly. "But if Remus and I are right, they've all ended up in...well, in depression."

"How is that even possible?" Patton asks, his eyes huge behind his glasses. Virgil shrugs, helpless.

"I have no idea," he says. "I don't know how we can get them out, either. Or if it's even _possible_. Oh god, what if it's not possible? What if they're stuck there forever? What will happen to them? To us? To _Thomas_?"

"Breathe, kiddo," Patton advises, kneeling next to Virgil. "Come on, breathe. We'll figure something out."

"I know how we can get them out," Remus sing-songs. Virgil stares at him.

"What?" He splutters. "How?"

Remus grins, and the light dims.

"Me," he says simply. 

"Er- how?" Virgil asks. Remus grins harder, and a wind Virgil can't feel whips strands of his hair around his face, fluttering the lace at his throat.

"Silly Virgil," Remus chides, almost playful. "Did you forget? I don't need to be in the imagination for _this_."

He stands up and steps back, raising one hand. He draws a jagged line in the air and to Virgil's horror, black fog seeps from the edges, curling along the floor.

"Well, come on then," Remus says impatiently. Virgil can feel his breathing start to rasp again.

"What?" He asks.

"Shout in it," Remus says. "Use your- _you_ voice. They'll hear _that_." Well, Virgil certainly feels anxious enough to access it, so there's that. He stands up, and trembling, walks over to the blackened, weeping gash in the middle of the living room.

As he gets closer, he can hear voices- Thomas's voice- and relief makes his knees sag. He comes in on the tail end of the conversation, peering into the darkness.

"I don't _want_ to be here. And I don't need to be here."

"No, you don't," Virgil says firmly, letting his voice double. Now that he's this close, he can make out three figures in the shadows. "Thomas, breathe. All of you. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. It's okay. We'll get you out of there."

_Although how, I don't know,_ Virgil thinks, but apparently Patton and Remus do, because despite the fear in Patton's expression, he approaches the jagged line with grim determination, thrusting a hand into it at the same time as Remus. Virgil does the same, wincing at the chill that seeps into his skin, before his fingers brush against _someone's_ collar, and he _pulls_ as hard as he can.

Logan, Deceit, and Thomas sprawl on the floor and Remus brushes his arm across the jagged line, erasing it from existence. Virgil turns his attention anxiously to the other three. Deceit opens his eyes and weakly smiles when he sees Virgil.

"Home sweet home," he says, and Thomas starts laughing.

"You're safe," Virgil says in relief, and now his knees do buckle, though Patton and Remus catch him and slowly bring him down to the floor.

"Thanks to you," Logan says, fiddling with slightly crooked glasses.

"Mostly thanks to Remus," Virgil corrects with a tired smile.

He almost misses the look of surprised gratitude that crosses Remus's face.


	12. fire up the angstmobile

"Thank you, Remus," Logan says, and Remus preens under the praise. It takes a moment for him to realize the emotion blossoming through him, just under his skin, is happiness.

"What happened to Roman?!" Thomas exclaims, rushing over to Roman's bedside.

"A mere flesh wound," Roman dismisses. Remus winces, knowing the truth, and a particularly vicious stab of guilt wrenches his stomach. It's his fault that Roman was injured. _He's_ the one who created the were-bear in the first place, after all. _He's_ the one who fled to the imagination, who escaped Virgil.

_But I didn't think anyone would come..._

Well, that isn't exactly true, is it. But he thought at most, Deceit and Virgil would slip in, and _those_ two can handle themselves in his realm relatively well.

....Well, Deceit can, anyway.

Remus hadn't expected anyone _else_ to join in. Certainly not his _twin_. With the kind of raw, pulsing anger that had gone into creating the nightmarish land, it's a wonder Roman was only attacked by the were-bear! Perhaps Remus's own easily distracted mind had worked _for_ him, for a change. He doesn't think Roman would be so well off otherwise.

"Why did you go to _Remus's_ side of the imagination?" Thomas questions, just as Remus tunes back into the conversation. "That sounds...scary."

"That sounds like a _you_ problem," Remus mutters, only loud enough for Deceit to hear, who gives him a piercing look. It softens to understanding and Remus looks away. He doesn't want that. 

"Because I behaved in a reprehensible fashion," Roman says. Remus's mouth drops open in surprise. Sure, his brother made that speech- and they'd bled on each other- but this was _Thomas_ , he never expected Roman to say that in front of _Thomas_ -

"How?" Thomas asks. "I mean, Princey, I have a hard time seeing you behave that badly..."

"I treated my brother poorly," Roman insists. "And I- I have an apology again and an explanation to you, Thomas. I should never have called them the Dark Sides, to begin with. It was dramatic, but it's- it's childish and there are better ways of talking about the other sides. Talking _with_ the other sides, even. They all have their roles to play and their goal is to help you, even if it seems strange at first."

"Your _brother_?" Thomas asks, incredulous. "He wants me to jump out of an airplane. Without a parachute."

"Obviously not those thoughts," Roman says, with a touch of asperity. "But he _is_ the other half of Creativity. And if you ever want to expand your content, well." Roman shrugs, jarring his wounds, and promptly winces.

"Roman, you need to lie still," Patton insists. "Don't move that side."

"I didn't _mean_ to," Roman complains.

"So ah, how did you get hurt?" Thomas asks.

"A particularly nasty creature in the imagination called a were-bear," Roman says. "Trust me when I say you don't want to meet it."

"It's dead," Remus interjects, hugging his knees tight. "Dead, dead, _dead_ , I pulped its skull like an _orange_ , I-"

"Remus, I think they get the point," Deceit interrupts him. Remus looks around. Virgil looks faintly ill. The others aren't much better.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"Well, it's dead now, anyway," Roman says, clearing his throat. "Remus killed it."

"I thought Remus created it," Thomas persists. "I don't get it." Anger boils in Remus's throat, making him feel like an over-heated cauldron, sloshing full of steaming water, ready to splash all over anyone who is foolish enough to brush against it.

"Roman fights the dragon witch all the time and he created her," Logan points out. "It is along the same principle."

"But Roman never ends up like _this_ when he fights the dragon witch," Thomas says, waving a hand at Roman's sickbed. 

"We get it, you hate me," Remus blurts out. Thomas jumps, but there's a guilty twitch around his eyes that tells Remus that he's not far off.

"Remus, I don't-" Thomas tries to placate, but Remus is done.

"Apparently I never should have left the imagination," he says. "But don't worry. There's no need to come after me this time. I'll just go to my room over on the _dark_ side and think about what a terrible person I am."

And with that, he sinks out of the living room, ignoring Thomas's stricken expression.


	13. confessions time

For a moment, anger roars to life in Deceit's stomach, Patton's own fury nearly flattening him to the ground. Then it's cut off as suddenly as it appeared and Patton helps Thomas to the couch, as solicitous as can be.

 _That...needs to be addressed at some point,_ Deceit thinks, dazed. Now, however, is not that time.

He _wants_ to yell at Thomas. He _wants_ to explicitly lay out, piece by piece, what a terrible thing Thomas just did. He _wants_ -

But he can't. Because despite being a purveyor of lies, he knows the truth, and the truth is, Thomas is so woefully behind the times, he might as well be in another story. He barely knows that the others have been accepting _Deceit_ , never mind Remus. Remus is an unknown, an element of chaos that ping pongs around the mindscape and, more often than not, leaves devastation in his wake. Thomas doesn't know what's happened. Thomas doesn't understand that Roman entered Remus's side of the imagination willingly, in an attempt to repair their relationship and to apologize for the hurtful things he said. Thomas doesn't know how much Remus craves Roman's approval, how he doesn't even try to imagine attaining _Thomas's_ approval. Not anymore.

"Virgil," he says in the silence. "Please go see to Remus." Virgil nods, sinking out. Deceit thinks he can see relief in the set of the other side's shoulders as he disappears. Not that that surprises him. This conversation is bound to be unpleasant.

"Thomas," he says. Thomas jumps, looking guiltily up at him. "What has been the point of a lot of your discussions with us?"

"Working...with you?" He offers a guess. "Talking to you?"

"Very _good_ , Thomas," Deceit says, clasping his hands in front of him. "Now, I admit, we have been remiss, but Roman was _trying_ to tell you what happened. The _least_ you could do is listen. Don't you agree?"

Shame-faced, Thomas nods and turns to Roman, who's struggling to sit up in bed and doing a poor job of it.

"Roman!" Patton scolds. "Lie down before you hurt yourself more."

"I'm fine," Roman protests. Deceit tastes the sharp burn of a lie and just _eyes_ him. Roman flushes and reluctantly returns to his prone position.

"I still don't like it," he grumbles.

"You don't have to like it," Patton returns, unperturbed. "You just have to _do_ it."

"Where was I?" Roman asks. "Ah. I may have a confession." He winces. "While she has never done _this_ to me-" he waves at himself gingerly- "I have certainly ended up in bed a time or two because of the dragon witch. She is a valiant foe and a formidable opponent. She just doesn't resort to claws as often."

"So..." Thomas blinks.

"Your statement about the were-bear as if it is some unimaginable horror and I'm incapable of producing similar things isn't quite correct," Roman says.

"I don't think I said that," Thomas says.

"Not exactly, but the implication was there," Deceit says.

"Anyway, I had to apologize to Remus, he deserved it," Roman resumes. "What I said was horrible."

"What _did_ you say?" Thomas persists.

"That Remus had to be careful not to corrupt Patton and acted like it was impossible for him to fit in," Roman mumbles, his face reddening like he'd been out in the sun for hours. "I was angry and jealous but-"

"Jealous?" This time, Patton interrupts. "Roman, why did you feel jealous?"

"You..." Roman trails off. "It's stupid."

"Tell us," Deceit says softly. 

"Patton calling him 'kiddo' at breakfast," Roman admits. "Treating him like- like he's _normal_. Like he's _okay_." The words sting. Deceit expects them to.

"He is," Patton says. "He and Deceit are. I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner."

"That's what I don't get," Thomas says, scrubbing his hands through his hair. "You- you _hated_ Remus. I thought. And you _certainly_ didn't like Deceit. What changed?"

"My room moved to this side," Deceit says, after a pause. "Patton decided perhaps he should get to know me after all." He doesn't realize that he's trying to hide his arms in his cape until Logan puts a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"And Remus," Patton adds, thankfully not mentioning finding Deceit in a puddle of blood. "I didn't hate Remus. I was...well, scared of him. But after Logan explained intrusive thoughts, I'm not so scared anymore. And I hope that you can be not so scared, too."

"I can try," Thomas says. Then he drops his head into his hands. "He must hate me," he groans. "I didn't mean to act like this was all his fault, I just-"

"You weren't up to date," Deceit murmurs. "Now- to some extent, anyway- you are. It's what you do _now_ that counts."

"I want to see him," Thomas says firmly. "I- I want to apologize."

The smile that flickers across Deceit's face is unfeigned.


	14. trapped inside my skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for some violent as h*ck intrusive thoughts and self harm, remus is in a b a d place
> 
> ...i might have borrowed from my own thoughts ahem

Remus flings himself to the floor, not even looking at the bed, which is still rumpled and probably slightly blood-stained from Roman's stint in it. His lungs feel like they're burning, like they've caught on fire, and all he wants to do is writhe in the flames. His fingers clutch at his chest, nails digging into his skin, as he imagines ripping his heart out, watching it slowly come to a stop in one bloody fist. What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Remus doesn't usually feel pain like the others. His nails dig in more insistently, and he can feel a thin, hot trickle of blood down the center of his chest.

"Remus, _stop!_ " Virgil shouts, alarmed, and the next thing Remus knows, Virgil is there, prying his hands away with strength born of Anxiety's toughest reflexes. Sometimes only Virgil is strong enough to take Remus on, not that he'll admit it.

"Hey," Remus giggles wetly, unable to stop himself. His eyes burn. "Do you think we can die? Do you think I need my organs? Do you think I _have_ organs?" He looks down at the bloody ruin of his chest in interest. "Let's find out!" He says, clapping. His hands are stained red. He wonders why for a moment until he looks down again. Right. He did that.

"Remus, _please_ calm down," Virgil says. Remus blinks in surprise to see Virgil's eyes are wet. Is he _crying_? He reaches out and traces salt and blood down Virgil's cheek, then licks off his finger, ignoring Virgil's shudder.

"Thomas hates me," he sing-songs. "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms... I've tried that," he adds, rocking back and forth on the floor, relishing the sting of his self-inflicted wounds against the fabric of his shirt. "They're _slimy_. You know what else is slimy? Intestines." He fumbles at his shirt, wanting to scratch _that_ skin away, too, but Virgil is there, holding his hands in a vise grip.

"You're no _fun_ , Anxiety," Remus pouts. 

"Yeah, I know," Virgil growls. "I don't care. You aren't ripping out your own intestines to find out what they feel like." Remus thinks he hears a gasp, but shakes his head. It's just him and Virgil, just like old times.

"Where's Deceit?" He asks suddenly. 

"He'll be here in a minute," Virgil says. "Thomas needs him." Remus frowns, his face growing ugly for a second.

"Thomas needs _him_ ," Remus says. "Not me. I'm _useless_." He bangs his head against the wall, sending a jolt of pain through his skull and down his neck. Then he rolls his neck experimentally, listening to it crack, and does it again.

"Stop that," Virgil says through gritted teeth. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"What's wrong with that?" Remus asks, tilting his head to one side. "Aww," he cooes. "Does widdle Virgey Wirgey _care_?" Virgil's cheeks go bright red as Remus cackles, the sound tinged with hysteria.

"Remus," and it's Deceit's voice, Deceit's face, Deceit's whole body, swiftly kneeling next to him and giving him a quick once-over, assessing the damage he's done.

"Don't worry," Remus says bitterly. "Virgil wouldn't let me do hardly anything."

"That's not what your chest says," Deceit says in a mild tone. "What were you trying to do there?"

"Rip my heart out," Remus cheerfully admits. "Do you think I could?"

"If I say 'no', would you take that as a challenge?" Deceit asks. Remus cocks his head, then nods, almost eager. "Right, I'm not doing that then," Deceit says. "Virgil, can you get the first aid kit?"

Deceit takes over holding Remus's wrists. His grip isn't quite as panicky tight as Virgil's, but there's steel beneath the soft fabric of the gloves, and Remus knows he can't buck Deceit off. Damn it.

"Here," Virgil says, back too soon. 

"Right, off with the shirt," Deceit says.

"Oh, well, if that's what you want," Remus says brightly. He snaps his fingers and his shirt is off, messily folded at the bottom of his bed. Without his shirt to cloak the damage, the raw, bloodied lines drawn with his own nails are more livid, a messy snarl concentrated over his heart.

"Well, you've done a number on yourself," Deceit remarks, pulling out an alcohol wipe as Virgil takes his hands back over. Remus wonders if he has enough leverage to kick them. He doesn't think so. 

"Like it?" Remus grins. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"It's certainly interesting," Deceit demurs. The alcohol stings, bowing Remus's back for a moment. Gauze follows, neatly sealed on all sides with a particular brand of medical tape, the only kind Remus can tolerate without tearing his own skin off.

"Remus," Deceit says, capturing his attention. "Thomas has something he wants to say to you." Deceit carefully moves aside, just a little, and Remus's eyes widen when he sees that Thomas, Patton, and Logan have joined them. Patton is crying silently. The only one missing is his brother and he's pretty sure that's only because he's still laid up in bed in the living room.

"I don't want to hear it," Remus blurts out. "Go away. I'm _fine_ , go away, I don't need your stupid pity, go away, go away, go _AWAY_!" His voice cracks on the last and he can feel hot tears seep down his cheeks, burning like acid.

"Remus," Thomas says, his voice tear-choked. "I'm so _sorry_."


	15. it's heartwarming

Any reservations Patton might have still possessed evaporated like morning dew when he sees Remus curled up on his bedroom floor, trying to claw out his own intestines. The bloody mess he's made of his chest draws Patton's eyes like a moth to flame, and he has to hold one hand over his mouth to prevent his sob from escaping. Deceit told everyone they couldn't let themselves be known until _he_ deemed it the right moment, and Patton agrees even more now that he can see the tableau, Virgil desperately trying to hold Remus still.

As Deceit approaches with words of comfort and pragmatic concerns, Patton can't help but feel a creeping sense of guilt. What was it like when Virgil left? Had Deceit tried to soothe Remus with empty platitudes and careworn assurances? Of _course_ Virgil is coming back, Remus, he'll be here soon, we can manage...

It's his fault. Patton's lips quiver as the thought crashes into him. _He's_ the one who thought Deceit was bad. _He's_ the one who split Creativity into good and evil. What would the mindspace be like, without _his_ influence? Would they all have managed to live together? Why hadn't he opened his arms to Deceit and Remus sooner?

Then Logan reaches over and squeezes a shoulder, a warm, reassuring presence that brings Patton back to the present long enough to hear Thomas's choked apology. Remus stares at them all with wide, bloodshot eyes, trembling so hard he almost looks like he's having a seizure.

"Why?" He finally asks, sounding utterly lost.

"I didn't know what had happened," Thomas says. "Deceit and the others filled me in. And really..." He pauses. "After your introduction- after Logan explained intrusive thoughts- I should have been more considerate of you. And Remus? I _don't_ hate you. I never have. I know I said it before, but it wasn't true. I was- afraid of you. But I didn't hate you."

"You should be afraid of me," Remus says in a conversational tone, like he's talking about the weather. "Did you know most humans have up to thirty-two teeth? Do you think I could pull all mine out?"

"No," Deceit says, helping Virgil pin his hands down. "I think this is a conversation that should not be had in Remus's room. It does not...have the _worst_ effect on him, as you can see." Patton peers at him, seeing the red and purple around his eyes intensify. It reminds him of Virgil and his corner of the mind.

"Let's regroup in the living room," Logan says, taking charge. In the hub-bub, Patton slips closer to Remus, who stares up at him with half-dazed eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you," Patton whispers. Remus's eyes widen as Deceit, Virgil, and Logan pick him up, ferrying him out to the living room.

Roman looks near frantic when they return, his gaze running rapidly over his brother and wincing at the bandages on his chest.

"Remus, what happened?" Roman demands. Remus looks up, his grin wilting.

"I wanna rip my heart out," he says, giggling. "I wanna hold it until it just...slows...down."

Roman's face is full of alarm and Patton clambers up on the sofa next to him, holding his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs. "Remus will be fine. Deceit treated his wounds, and Thomas apologized to him. It will be fine, Roman."

"How can it be fine when my _brother_ looks like the were-bear tried to rip his chest out?" Roman snaps, then flushes. "My apologies, Patton. I should not take out my anger on you."

"You shouldn't take it out on anyone," Logan contributes, settling Remus in the bed next to his brother. Remus goes quietly, and after a moment, Patton can see Virgil release his grip. Remus does nothing but pick at the sheet covering him.

"I _know_ that," Roman says, still snappish, before sighing.

"You feel powerless because you are stuck in bed," Logan guesses. Roman nods, sullen.

"You'll be out of there in no time," Patton encourages. "And in the meantime, you have all of us."

"Me included," Thomas says. "I- I feel like I should apologize again, there's been so much going on, and I didn't know about _any_ of it." He lets out a shaky laugh. "I'm really sorry, guys."

"It's uh, okay," Virgil says, already huddled up in his chair. "You have a lot on your mind. I would know."

"Still," Thomas says, looking so distressed Patton can't help but try to find a solution.

"I know it's what we do all the time," Patton says. "But would you like to watch a movie?"

"Yes," Remus says suddenly. " _Finding Nemo._ " Patton doesn't question his choice, just goes to the entertainment center to find it.

Maybe things really could be okay.


	16. delirium

It's a domestic scene, Virgil reflects, looking around the room. Thomas is tucked against the couch, Patton sprawled out next to him. Logan has taken the couch itself and coaxed Virgil and Deceit to join him, though Virgil has crammed himself against the arm, tucking himself into his hoodie like a security blanket. Light snores and snuffles drift his way from Roman's and Remus's bed, turned into one, where Remus has curled himself into Roman's uninjured side and refused to move. _Finding Nemo_ has long since ended and _Beauty and the Beast_ currently flickers on the TV screen. Bowls of popcorn and other snacks lay scattered across the room.

Yes, it _should_ be soft and tranquil and serene, but the anxiety buzzing in Virgil's chest tells him that it's _not_ , and he doesn't know why. As far as he can tell, everyone is fine. Staying in the commons has done Thomas no harm- if he was in someone's room or corner in particular, perhaps it would be different. Remus has calmed down entirely, soothed by leaving his room and the solid, comforting weight of his brother. He thinks something might be a _little_ off with Patton, but Disney marathons tend to help the moral side, at least enough that he can be talked out of whatever emotional crisis has begun to plague him.

Logan? He turns his head just enough to view the logical side, who is currently preoccupied with the movie. Logan doesn't relax like this nearly enough, but Virgil recognizes the slight smile on his face. That only leaves...

But Deceit looks all right, too, if tired. His hands are nestled in his lap, his hat missing somewhere down the side of the sofa, and while he isn't _smiling_ per se, he doesn't look upset, either.

Is it just _him_? Virgil wonders, trying not to pick at his cuticles and failing miserably. Is it because of his job? He can never let his guard down, so no matter how serene his surroundings, something _has_ to be wrong? For fuck sake, Thomas isn't even behind schedule! He berates himself. _Nothing. Is. Wrong._

And yet his senses scream to him that _everything_ is.

"Virgil?" Deceit murmurs in his ear. He sounds sleepy. "Are you all right?" All Virgil can do is shake his head miserably, his gut churning and his lungs squeezing the air out of him. _Wrong_ spills from every corner of the room, seeping through the fabric of his hoodie and sticking to his pale skin.

"What's wrong?" Now Deceit sounds more alert and guilt splinters through Virgil as he shrugs, hunching into the sofa. He doesn't _know_ , that's the whole problem. "Breathe for me, Virgil," Deceit says quietly. "It's all right. Just breathe."

 _But it's_ not _all right,_ Virgil wants to shout, wants to shriek until his throat tears and his tongue bleeds. _It's all_ wrong _and I can't explain why, I don't even know why_ -

But Logan's there, too, now, and he's guiding Virgil's head down, adding to the instructions. Dimly, Virgil's aware that he's _trying_ to follow it, but his breathing keeps choking off, parceled out in tiny sips of air that make his head spin.

"Virgil?" Patton's alarmed cry adds to the din in his head and if Virgil was capable of groaning, he would have. Now _he's_ what's wrong, _he's_ the one fucking it all up, destroying the tranquility, and if he could sink out, he would have. But everyone's _there_ and he _can't_ just sink out, not when Logan is gently carding his fingers through Virgil's hair and Deceit's arm is wrapped around his shoulders.

"Four, seven, eight," Deceit counts for him and somehow, finally, Virgil is able to get a handle on his breathing, to turn it into something approximating normal. When he lifts his head, it spins, but he stabilizes in a moment, flushing brilliant red for even Roman and Remus have woken, Remus looking over at him like a concerned owl, peeking over Roman's bulk.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"No need to apologize, Virgil," Deceit murmurs. His arm doesn't retreat and Virgil is dully thankful. "Did something in particular bring it on?" Shame-faced, Virgil shakes his head.

"I don't know," he admits. "I just- It feels like something's wrong, but I can't figure out what it _is_." The last comes out in a frustrated hiss, and he reddens.

"Thomas, how do you feel?" Logan asks, turning to him.

"Kind of anxious," Thomas says. "But I don't know why either. It's really low level for me."

"But it's obviously not for Virgil," Logan says, frowning in thought. Virgil opens his mouth to reply, then stops, his eyes widening in pure terror.

The walls around him flicker, letting him see past them in dribs and drabs. Inky tendrils ooze their way in, pulling jagged lines of reality apart like raw gaping wounds. Virgil sees the meadow from Remus's world, blood dripping from deadened clouds, the red-eyed deer in the distance, but sneaking closer. Ever closer.

And suddenly Virgil's not so sure they ever _left_ Remus's side of the imagination, after all.


	17. a blast from the past

"Can't you see?" Virgil whispers, his voice so thready it's hard for Deceit to hear him at all. It's like he's trying desperately to keep from being overheard...

But by who?

"See what, Virgil?" Deceit asks, keeping his own voice low. Virgil points a shaky hand at the cream-painted wall. Deceit turns to look. Nothing. Just an ordinary wall, with a few paint smudges near the base boards from Patton's few stints into fingerpainting.

"They're coming," Virgil says, and he sounds so _broken_ , Deceit finds himself pulling Virgil into his side with all six arms before he can blink. Luckily, the anxious side doesn't panic. If anything, the touch seems to reassure him, and he burrows into Deceit's side.

 _That's..._ not good. Virgil quivers like a cornered animal, his eyes so huge all Deceit can see are the whites. Familiarity plucks at the edges of his mind. This has happened before. Hasn't it?

"What's coming, Virgil?" Deceit questions in the meantime. Logan hasn't stopped running a hand through Virgil's hair and the anxious side leans into the touch with a haunted look in his eyes.

"Can't you _see_ them?" Virgil splutters. "The- the deer- they look _hungry_ \- I can't- please- we have to get out- why are we just-"

And just like that, the memory snaps into place.

_"Dee, Dee, help me!" Virgil, a much younger Virgil, shrieks, running out of Remus's room. Remus follows him, laughing, his mace over one shoulder._

_"Remus, what did you do?" Deceit asks sternly. Remus tries to look innocent. It fails miserably._

_"Nothing," he defends himself. "Virgey Wirgey just spent too much time in my little playground. That's all." He giggles. Deceit takes a closer look at Virgil, at the shadows stamped under Anxiety's eyes, and the way he can't stop shivering._

_"They're gonna get me, Dee!" Virgil cries out, stiffening at the horrifying sight of something only he can see. "Please, please don't let them get me, please-" He bursts into raw, ugly tears, tearing at his throat as he winds his arms around Deceit's waist._

_"It's okay, I'm here," Deceit soothes him. "It's fine. You'll be fine. I won't let anything hurt you." Tearful eyes look up at him._

_"Do you promise?" Virgil whispers. Deceit enfolds him in a hug._

_"Always," Deceit says._

"Logan, I think that we need to go to your room," Deceit says, forcing himself back to the present day. "I hope that it works better, anyway."

"For what?" Logan asks. "My room is at your disposal, of course."

"Well, he's certainly _not_ hallucinating right now," Deceit says. "Nor is he at all in the throes of a delusion about those dreadful deer in Remus's imagination station."

"Ah," is all Logan says, but it's enough. He marshals the others- including Roman and Remus, although Roman winces when he's placed on a stretcher.

"I'll carry!" Remus says. "I won't even drop you, I swear. I think."

"I'll help," Thomas says, giving Remus a _look_. Remus sticks out his tongue.

"Hurry," Virgil says weakly, his hands fluttering at Deceit's arms. He looks terrible, so pale that he looks about to keel over any second, and his eyes keep darting around.

 _Damn it, I should have thought,_ Deceit thinks as he takes the stairs two at a time, practically carrying Virgil between him and Logan. He should have known that Virgil no longer had _any_ protective coloration built up around Remus and that shoving the personification of anxiety in with the embodiment of 'bad' creativity and intrusive thoughts for any period of time was a terrible idea. Virgil spent too much time in Remus's room, particularly with the jaunt into Remus's side of the imagination. No wonder he's seeing things, Deceit thinks, a sour taste welling in his mouth.

"Here we are," Logan says, opening the door and thrusting Deceit and Virgil inside. Virgil makes a tiny startled sound as Deceit shuffles him out of the way, toward Logan's star-speckled bed. The duvet is sprinkled with different constellations and Deceit has no doubt that Logan knows each one.

"There," Logan directs, guiding Roman's stretcher.

"Whoa," Remus breathes. Deceit is startled to notice a look of peace spreading across Remus's face.

"Wh- what are we doing in here?" Virgil stammers. "Everyone-" His head swivels like an owl's. 

"Do you remember what used to happen if you spent too much time in Remus's room?" Deceit asks gently. Virgil flushes, then nods, the movement thick with shame. 

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Virgil," Logan says bracingly.

"Yes, there is, I'm _crazy_ ," Virgil blurts out.

"Actually, hallucinations are well documented in neurotypical people, particularly when they are sleep-deprived," Logan says. "The mind is a fascinating subject of study and-"

"Logan," Deceit interrupts, tapping the side of his nose. "Don't you think that's enough?" A faint blush colors Logan's cheeks.

"Apologies," he murmurs.

"I don't think any less of you, if that's what you're worried about," Thomas pipes up. "I've had those- those sleep deprived ones." He waves a hand at Logan. "They were awful."

Virgil relaxes minutely, peering around the room.

"You- you aren't mad?" He asks.

"Of course not," Patton says. "I'd be petrified if I thought I saw those deer." Virgil laughs weakly at Patton's theatrical shudder, especially when he mutters something about being "nearly as bad as spiders."

"I hope you don't mind everyone staying in your room for a while," Deceit tells Logan. "I used my room when it happened before, but it took a while to comfort him. Little white lies only do so much, after all." He shrugs.

"You can stay as long as you need to," Logan says. "Anything to help Virgil."

"Th-thanks," Virgil stammers.

Remus knocks a stack of books over, the resounding crash making Virgil nearly climb Deceit like a tree.

"Oops?" Remus offers.


	18. deep sea facts

"I'm sorry that it isn't quite as cozy up here," Logan says. Remus barely hears him, too busy investigating the warren of bookshelves that take up one wall. He plucks a book off the shelf, one on octopuses, and licks the cover, sighing as the taste of paper and old age spreads over his tongue.

"Remus!" Roman scolds. The stretcher has been transformed into a narrow bed, and he looks much more comfortable. "Don't lick Logan's books."

"But they look tasty," Remus whines. Roman levels a glare at him and Remus's defiance wilts.

"Fine," he says sulkily. He still opens the book, though, because he can see there's a sheaf of pictures in the middle, and he wants to _see_.

"Remus..." Roman warns. Remus sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"I'm just _looking_ ," Remus says. "I'm allowed to look. Aren't I?" He turns to Logan. Logan looks faintly startled to be addressed, but nods anyway.

"If you are careful, then I see no reason why not," Logan says. Roman looks almost dumbstruck, but Remus laughs in delight, settling himself on the floor to peer at the octopus pictures. Their tentacles spread out in deep sea glory, and he wishes he could _see_ them in real life. He never thought of putting octopi in his side of the imagination before, not like these. They're all different sizes and shapes, including one that looks like it has enormous googly eyes.

"Did you know there's over three hundred octopus species that have been recognized?" He asks the room at large. "That's _so many_ , you couldn't even fit them in the imagination. They'd crush the imagination. Did you know an octopus has three hearts? Two pump blood through their gills and the last one pumps blood through their body. Did you know-"

"Remus, do you really have to recite every octopus fact you just read?" Roman asks wearily. He doesn't look good, Remus notices with a frown.

"Yes," he says defiantly.

"I don't mind," Logan says. Deceit and Virgil are still huddled together, with Patton and Thomas sitting tentatively on the outskirts, ready to provide comfort if needed. Logan sits in his customary chair, keeping a watchful eye on the twins. Like a jailer, Remus thinks, and his lips twist.

But-

Logan's letting him read his octopus book, isn't he? He didn't _have_ to let him. He could have said no. He could have made Remus put it back. Remus grins, elation spreading through his veins like fizzy champagne.

"Did you know all octopus species are venomous? Only the blue-ringed ones are deadly to humans, though. They look pretty in the picture, though." Remus studies the blue-ringed octopus, squinting. "I wish I had one for a pet."

"You are _not_ keeping a blue-ringed octopus as a pet," Roman protests. He looks paler, his skin drawn around the edges. His outburst draws Patton's attention.

"What's a blue-ringed octopus?" Patton asks, scooting closer.

"This!" Remus explains happily, waving the book in Patton's face. "They're deadly to humans, but they're so pretty, see?"

"Ah, kiddo, I think your brother's right," Patton says tactfully. "I don't think having something deadly as a pet is a good idea. But ah...maybe you could still keep one in the imagination?"

"Excellent idea!" Remus says, giggling. Roman just groans.

"It better stay on your side," Roman says. "I don't want to explore a river or a lake and suddenly find a blue-ringed octopus on my face."

"Of course it would stay on my side," Remus huffs, indignant, before a sly grin creeps across his face. "Of course, this _does_ say that they can easily solve problems and there have been plenty of documented cases of an octopus escaping its tank, _sooooo_..."

Before Roman can reply, he's bent double by a series of harsh coughs. Logan frowns, standing up to get a closer look at him.

"I don't think that my room is a good place for you to stay," Logan says firmly. Remus feels a cold, hard knot of sickness form in his stomach.

"What do you mean?" He asks in a tiny voice.

"Roman is Creativity," Logan explains. "You are, as well, but you _also_ encompass intrusive thoughts. You seem to be much...calmer than usual. And your outbursts are factually related to the book you're reading. _Roman_ has no such escape and I believe that instead of grounding him, it is only having an adverse effect. Dashing his dreams, so to speak."

"I'm fine," Roman says. Deceit looks up, his tongue scenting the air. A grimace crosses his face.

"Lie," Deceit says. "And a rather poor one, at that."

"Shut up," Roman says tiredly. "Where else can I go? Virgil needs to be here. Remus is doing better here. I can survive."

"Perhaps," Logan acknowledges. "But that doesn't mean it's good for you to be here an extended period of time."

"I'll take him to his room," Patton volunteers, adjusting the cardigan still draped around his shoulders. "I don't mind."

"I'll go, too," Thomas says. "If you want me to, Roman."

"I would love it," Roman says, and Remus can see his eyes are wet. "But- my brother-"

"I'm fine here," Remus says, somehow managing to speak around the lump in his throat. For one shining moment, it had almost felt like- like old times, when all they did was bicker and there was no 'good' or 'bad' hanging over them like vicious storm clouds. When Remus didn't need to feel _ashamed_ of who he was.

"I'm sorry, Remus," Roman says. "I'd stay if Logan would let me."

"I'm afraid I can't," Logan says, regretful.

"Virgil should be good to go in a little while," Deceit says. "When he stayed in my room after an...episode, it took several hours, but I think your room is better for this, Logan. He _hasn't_ at all calmed down much quicker than before."

Remus stays out of the way, fingers drumming on the edges of the octopus book, as the bed becomes stretcher once more, and Patton and Thomas bear it out the door. When he looks up again, Logan is much closer. 

"I would like to hear more octopus facts, if you are amenable," Logan says.

"Mimic octopuses can change their shape," Remus blurts out, and Logan smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the octopus knowledge is from: https://onekindplanet.org/animal/octopus/


	19. i'm not okay (i promise)

Roman stares at the ceiling as Patton and Thomas carry him from Logan's room. The hurt in Remus's face is permanently stamped into his mind's eye. He doesn't _want_ to leave his brother, and the thought is startling. Surely he shouldn't care?

But he _does_ , and he's happy that Remus can calm down in Logan's room, he really is, but he wishes that peace extended to him, too. It is a devious sort of peace for him, coaxing him to the ground and crushing and crumbling his dreams around him, until he's left breathless and bowed in the rubble, pure logic weighing him to the floor.

"Hey," Patton says, catching his attention. "It'll be okay."

 _Will it?_ Roman wants to say, but can't force the words out. Patton seems to understand anyway, though.

"Of course it will," he says. "And everyone will join us as soon as Virgil is calmed down."

"Okay," Roman says. Thomas nods, saying nothing. Roman wonders how this all feels from his perspective. He must feel mental, everything he's ever thought he knew about his own sides is crashing and whirling in a million different directions. The dragon witch _does_ hurt Roman sometimes. Deceit and Remus are- well, if they aren't necessarily _good_ , they aren't _bad_ either.

The familiar gold-inlaid ceiling of his room meets his eyes as Patton and Thomas maneuver the stretcher through the door.

"Surely I can be in a proper bed now?" Roman asks. "I refuse to lie in a stretcher when my bed is _right there_." He points and ignores the warning throb of pain.

"All right," Patton says, looking doubtful. "But be careful, okay?"

Slowly, with Patton's and Thomas's help, Roman sits up and shuffles to his proper bed, sprawling and much more comfortable than the stretcher. The were-bear's assault is a painful reminder as he makes his way across the carpet, but at last, he _does_ make it, and slips under the covers with a pleased sigh.

"I like your room," Thomas says, scratching the back of his neck. "It...really fits you."

"Thank you, Thomas," Roman says. "I wish you could have seen it under...better circumstances."

"I'm glad to have seen it at all," Thomas says. "Your room and Logan's. I've only seen Patton's and Virgil's before." 

"Virgil has a proper bedroom now," Patton pipes up. "That people can stay in for longer. Not just his- er- corner."

"Oh, cool," Thomas says, smiling. "I'd like to see it sometime."

Roman looks down at the red and gold fabric of his blanket, fiddling with the corner of it. He wishes he could hear more stupid octopus facts. He doesn't know why. He doesn't _care_. And no doubt Remus will end up regaling them all with octopus tales for the next week, anyway.

" _Roman, GUESS WHAT_ ," the familiar, energetic voice of his brother says, barreling through his door and waving a familiar book over his head. "Logan said I could borrow it!"

"As long as you take care of it," Logan says, entering calmly behind him. "Apologies if we disturbed you, Roman. Deceit wanted a moment alone with Virgil."

At one point, that news would have sent adrenaline pumping through Roman's veins. He would have jumped out of bed, wound or no wound, sword in hand, ready to avenge Virgil.

Now he just nods tiredly, and conjures up two more chairs.

"Did you know octopuses have four pairs of arms?" Remus chatters. "If there was a really big one, it could _crush_ a ship! Just wrap around it and smash! There goes the ship!" He giggles.

"I believe there is something called a kraken that follows a similar principle," Logan says. "It is a cephalopod monster that terrorizes sailors."

" _Neat!_ " Remus declares, grinning brightly.

Roman smiles. He used to hate his brother being in here, griming his room with his trash and his deodorant and his- his _presence_.

It hasn't even been a day since his outburst about Patton, but he can _feel_ the change, a pleasant lake of feeling flooding his stomach and spreading through his limbs. 

He actually _wants_ his brother around. He's never felt like this before.

He welcomes the change.


	20. just like old times

Virgil slowly un-crumples as Logan leads a brightly chattering Remus away, holding the octopus book aloft like a trophy. Perhaps for him, it is. It's certainly a sign the logical side has accepted him into the group. Logan wouldn't let him borrow a book otherwise. Virgil wonders if Remus realizes that. Really, truly _understands_ that.

"Virgil," Deceit murmurs, capturing his attention. "How do you feel now?"

Virgil can feel his face heat up as he looks down, playing with his hoodie strings. Now that he is bathed in cool reason, he wants to hide in his room forever in shame. Freaking out like that, over some stupid demon deer- It's _pathetic_ -

"It isn't pathetic," Deceit hisses, his tongue flicking out. " _You_ are not pathetic, Virgil. You hallucinated. There is no shame in that."

"But I freaked out," Virgil says in a tiny voice. "I made everyone else freak out."

"I was certainly concerned," Deceit admits frankly. "But I wanted to _help_ you. I'm just glad that I remembered it happening before, so I knew what it was."

Virgil vaguely remembers the first time it happened. It was petrifying. He'd been so young, too... He'd built up a tolerance for Remus's room by virtue of necessity. Remus's outbursts needed more than one person to truly _help_ and he was the only one willing at the time. Guilt splinters through his stomach, doubling him over. He had just _left_ them-

"Virgil, breathe," Deceit orders, breaking through the haze. "It's fine. I _know_ what you're thinking, and beating yourself up for, but _don't_."

"Why not?" Virgil chokes out. "I just _left_ you- you and Remus- you needed help and I wasn't _there_ -"

"Virgil, hindsight is forever 20/20 as the saying goes," Deceit says. "If you go down the lane of regrets, you'll never find your way back. And neither will I, for that matter." He falls silent for a second.

"Regrets?" Virgil asks, curious. A slight, sad smile tips up the corner of Deceit's mouth, the snake-y side.

"Impersonating Morality, for one," Deceit says. "You were suspicious of me from the start, weren't you."

" _Friendo_ , Deceit?" Virgil says, raising an eyebrow. "Not to mention you thinking Patton would _ever_ manage to give that lecture on philosophers and get it _right_. Like yeah, he knows his stuff, but he doesn't keep track of who said what."

"Well, I know that _now_ ," Deceit grumbles. "I was a little preoccupied at the time."

"Also, you called Logan everyone's favorite," Virgil points out. "I don't know if you've noticed, but..."

"Well, _I_ like him," Deceit mutters. "Can you imagine getting _logic_ on my side?" A dreamy look crosses his face. Virgil snorts.

"In your dreams, maybe," Virgil says. "Besides, at the moment, he seems to be on Remus's side."

"More like he wants to be in Remus's lap," Deceit snickers. Virgil claps a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to stifle his laughter.

"You are the worst," he finally manages to sputter out. "I cannot _believe_ \- I mean, _Logan-_ "

"It's always the ones you'd least suspect," Deceit insists.

"Still," Virgil says.

"You seem to be feeling better," Deceit says dryly. Virgil goes pink and nods, still twisting his hoodie strings. Deceit sighs, snapping his fingers and conjuring a fidget cube.

"Here," he says. 

"Thanks," Virgil mumbles.

"Perhaps we should go to Roman's room now?" Deceit suggests. As Deceit helps him to his feet, Virgil has a sudden thought.

"Hey, did you ever see _Descendants_?" He asks. Deceit scrunches his nose in thought.

"It's vaguely familiar," he acknowledges.

"Do you know the song 'Ways To Be Wicked?' It's used on that Tik Tok app all the time."

"Oooh," Deceit says. "Do proceed."

" _Crashing the party, guess they lost my invitation,_ " Virgil sings lowly, hand in hand with Deceit, glove smooth against his skin. " _Friendly reminder, got my own kind of persuasion._ "

" _Looks like this place could use a bit of misbehavior,_ " Deceit joins in, his voice a melodious hiss. " _Happily ever after with a little flavor._ "

They reach Roman's room and stop dead.

An enormous aquarium sits in the middle of the floor. Remus sits on top of a similarly gigantic octopus.

"Hi!" He says, waving happily.


	21. imitation kraken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end of this story! ...but not the series

"Do I want to know?" Deceit asks carefully. Remus grins, bobbing happily on top of the massive octopus he conjured with Roman's help.

"No," he says, cheerful. "Wanna hop in?"

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you," Deceit says, settling gracefully in a chair next to Roman's bed. Virgil elects to sit on the floor, back pressed to the bed. "How did you end up in there, anyway?"

"He wanted to have a more tactile experience with an octopus," Logan answers, settling his glasses on his nose. "It's a scientific experiment, of sorts."

"Sure, let's go with that," Remus says. The octopus's skin is surprisingly smooth beneath his fingers.

He doesn't know how he feels. His brother's room is a rush, like a spring wind blowing out of nowhere and ruffling his hair. It's like his realm, but...different. It kind of hurts that it's so similar. He wonders if Roman feels that way in _his_ room. Before today, he would have said definitely not. Now (despite the were-bear), he's not so sure.

"Hey, Thomas, wanna ride a giant octopus?" Remus calls out, struck by the sudden thought.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Patton says, giving him a worried look.

"For that matter, I think Thomas has spent long enough in the mindscape," Logan speaks up, setting his experiments notebook aside. Remus frowns.

"I think Logan's right," Thomas says, his face apologetic. "It's been hours."

"But-" Remus cuts himself off, biting his lip so hard he can taste the metallic tang of blood. 

"What, Remus?" Virgil asks, concern bright in his eyes. Of _course_ he heard.

"Nothing," Remus says. A tiny drop of blood drips from his bottom lip, hitting the water and briefly expanding into a flash of red.

And his world explodes.

" _REMUS!_ " He hears, as if from very far away. The octopus beneath him heaves and he goes with it, water rushing past his head and leaving his breath to trail past him in a series of bubbles. A long, whippy arm curls around him and _squeezes_ , bringing stinging tears to his eyes. He pushes fruitlessly at the octopus's tenacious grip, his head throbbing with the effort to hold his breath.

Suddenly, a loud crack shivers through the glass of the aquarium and through blurred eyes, to his shock, Remus sees _Logan_ chipping at the glass, supported by Patton and Virgil.

The octopus squeezes tighter and Remus can't help but open his mouth to shriek in pain when he feels something inside crack. Water gushes into his mouth, carrying the last threads of blood back out to the octopus, who squeezes even tighter, another set of arms coming up to pin him in place in the watery depths.

" _Let GO of him!_ " Logan shouts, and the glass splinters, leaving Remus to slam against it.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Roman yells over the clamor, loud enough that Remus can hear him. He forces himself to a sitting position and claps his hands once, twice... 

Three times, and the aquarium, octopus included, disappear, dumping a half-drowned and bruised Remus on top of a surprised Logan.

"Remus!" Logan says, frantic. His glasses are crooked. "Are you all right?"

Remus smiles dreamily at him.

"Sure," he says, and passes out.

It lasts for only a few seconds, but he comes to spitting seawater. Logan's carefully probing his ribs and _fuck_ that hurts.

"Do you know what happened?" Logan asks, serious.

"I was so scared!" Patton bursts out. Remus cranes his neck. Patton's got his face buried in Virgil's shoulder. Deceit's face is carefully blank, in that way that shows he cares a great deal about what's going on and doesn't want to admit it.

"I bit my lip," Remus mutters. His throat is raw and it hurts a little to breathe. "I guess krakens don't like blood."

"They like it a little too much," Virgil retorts. "Shit, Remus, that was- that was something."

" _Are_ you all right?" Logan persists. "I can tell that your ribs are injured-"

"I think that's it," Remus says. "And I feel like I've been dragged under a pier. Or tied to a boat by my ankles and dragged. Hey, what do you think would happen if-"

"Yep, he's fine," Roman interrupts. "Good. I'm sorry I didn't get rid of it sooner, Remus, it all happened so _fast_ -"

"I'm not dead yet, so you did good, bro," Remus says, interrupting Roman's self-loathing spiral.

"If I leave, are you all going to be all right?" Thomas asks. "I mean..." He gestures weakly around the room.

Despite the pain from his ribs, Remus can't stop laughing.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [trapped within my skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622470) by [peachsneakers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers)




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